


Valentine

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [122]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders is Extra, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, M/M, not really erotic poetry but it does talk about kissing a lot, theyre all simps its great
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:21:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27006502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Logan doesn’t entirely know what he expected his first Valentine’s day with romantic partners to entail - but hedoesknow that it has exceeded all those expectations
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton
Series: LAOFT Extras [122]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1365505
Comments: 29
Kudos: 327





	Valentine

**Author's Note:**

> takes place just shy of a year after the main story and the day before _Dawn_ and _Grounded_
> 
> for the prompts
> 
> "Valentines day" (from @sos-fandoms)  
> "kind of a prompt i guess but i would /kill/ to see the laoft boys first valentines day together. theyre so affectionate anyway i think anyone saw them on february 14th would just die immediately" (from ro anon)
> 
> the song is “On a Night Like This” by Dave Barnes and specifically inspired by [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XzfsuOW9j6o) a capella choral cover
> 
> me posting a valentine's day fic in the middle of october? Time isn't real

Logan knew today (and the rest of the weekend) was the day the Valentine’s singing telegrams were going out, but he knew it in the same way he knew what the cafeteria was serving for lunch. Logan packed his lunch, so as to avoid any unpleasant run-ins with salt or other foods that he reacted poorly to. The cafeteria menu was information he _had_ , but it was not information he found useful or relevant.

Logan had only seen one delivered today, and it hadn’t been one of the singing ones, only the rose and a card with music. The delivery had occurred in third period Pre-Calculus, and the slightly battered rose had been delivered to Lauren Schuler’s desk, unsigned. Logan had made a mental note to either pick on or encourage Kai, depending on Kai’s reaction to him bringing it up, and then proceeded to put the telegrams out of his mind completely.

Logan’s last class of the day, Ms. Streets’ AP Biology, was also his favorite class by far, and so he had honestly entirely forgotten about the telegrams until about ten minutes into class, when there was a knock at the door and a cheery Becca Odell, class president and a member of the choir, popped her head in the door.

Ms. Streets sighed.

“Alright, fine, come in,” she said, retreating to her desk.

Logan sighed himself, annoyed with the class interruption. Becca walked into the room, and three more choir students followed her in. First was her best friend Beth Neal (Logan was not surprised Becca had cajoled her way into them being in the same group) and then Tanner Wells, which made Logan wince slightly. Tanner was one of Logan’s least favorite classmates by far – he wasn’t rude, or actively hostile, but he wore what Logan considered to be a truly _excessive_ number of anti-fae charms, and most days even passing him in the hallway sent Logan into a fit of sneezing.

The last person in the doorway was Elliot Pennybacker, who smiled happily at Logan as they entered, waving. Logan waved back, returning the smile.

Becca was carrying the box, and she made her way between the desks. Logan winced again as they came closer, and resolved to attempting to hold his breath as long as Tanner was close by.

Except, as Tanner approached, nothing happened. Logan examined him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and didn’t see a single of Tanner’s usual charms on his person.

And then Becca dropped the box and the somewhat dingy rose on _Logan’s desk_ , and he felt his ears immediately start burning.

“Happy Valentine’s day!” Becca said brightly, “Your valentine is Roman Gage,”

Logan made a quiet, strangled noise, and he heard a smattering of giggling throughout the room. Elliot gave him a look that was both sympathetic and terribly amused.

Becca retrieved a pitch pipe from her pocket and gave a little whistle on it. The four choir students hummed a chord, and started singing, first merely vocalizations that Logan presumed imitated the original song’s instrumentals, and then lyrics.

_“On a night like this, I could fall in love – I could fall, in love, with you,”_

Logan made another mortified noise, feeling like he was literally going to burst into flames from the force of his blush. In an effort to distract himself, he grabbed the rose and focused his gaze firmly on that instead.

Except that was a patently awful plan, because as soon as he touched it the rose began to behave incredibly erratically, going from drab to vibrant and curling gently around Logan’s hand – the color of the petal edges began to deepen from blush pink to red, and Logan heard one of Elliot’s notes stutter with a giggle before they recovered and continued.

The _betrayal_ , Logan thought rather dramatically, but he felt the situation called for a bit of dramatics.

_“I’ve hid myself, away from this – but your silhouette is a true love’s kiss,”_

Logan covered his face with one hand, while the rose in the other continued to do various incredibly embarrassing things like sprout new leaves and two new buds, one of which was crimson and the other of which was lavender.

“ _On a night like this,_ ” the chorus repeated, slowing, “ _I could fall in love, with you,_ ”

They held the final note for several moments before cutting off, and there was scattered, polite applause.

“Happy Valentine’s day!” they repeated in unison.

“Alright, alright,” said Ms. Streets, “Very nice kids, have a good one,”

Becca waved at the teacher brightly and then led them out of the room just as they’d entered it. Elliot grinned over their shoulder and waved as they exited, and Logan returned it in spite of the fact that he was rather concerned he might be about to have a heart attack.

Ms. Streets returned to the front of the classroom, but Logan could not have followed the rest of the lesson if paid money – his attention was entirely arrested by the small box that had come with his telegram, red with a pink ribbon.

Before he could lose his nerve, Logan opened the box.

The first and most obvious thing was a small, clearly hand-stitched dark blue bear with a little felt flower crown, holding a red heart. The heart had “I love you bear-y much!” embroidered onto it in white thread. It must have been from Patton.

Next was two folded pieces of paper, one with little doodles covering the back and the other sealed with _wax_ , which Logan immediately knew must be Roman’s doing. Upon pulling them out, there was one more thing in the box, which Logan pulled out and found to be a woven silver bracelet, with a pattern of sparkling flowers that Logan could only see as he tilted it back and forth in the light.

Logan opened the first letter, and found it a rambling, endearingly fumbling love note from Patton, his words filling the entire page in cramped, curly handwriting. “I love you” was written no less than seven times on the entire page, and the rest was effusive praise and exuberant listings of Logan’s positive qualities. Logan’s breath was a little unsteady by the time he finished.

Hands shaking, he broke the wax on the second letter. It wasn’t decorated, which for a moment Logan found confusing – Roman rarely passed up an opportunity to be “extra” – and then there was another flash of confusion when a single, much shorter paragraph was all that was written.

Logan inhaled sharply.

It wasn’t a paragraph – it was a poem. A _sonnet_.

_Our flower, our love, sweet Seelie mine. Oh, Spring of my heart and bright dawn of my sky-_

Logan stopped reading, overcome with such a plethora of emotions he couldn’t have possibly named a single one. He had to take another deep, steadying breath, blushing furiously and biting the inside of his cheek to keep from making any embarrassing noises.

_Pink camellia in your smile, sun’s glow on your skin, silver rain in your bright eyes. I could drink in the taste of your lips for a hundred years and never be sated._

Logan bit his lip, his stomach squirming in an equally pleasant and nerve-wracking way.

_I could gaze upon you forevermore and still miss you when my else close. Instead, let us never be parted – I cannot bear it. Let me spend all my days kissing your lips in fields full of forget-me-not, build our house in a vale of endless spring. I love you, I love you – I cannot say it enough. Let me tell you every day._

Mortifyingly, Logan found that his eyes had filled with tears without so much as briefly consulting him, and he barely restrained a weak noise in the back of his throat before it escaped.

“Mr. Sanders!”

Logan startled, willing his eyes not to spill over as he looked up at Ms. Streets.

Her mouth was wrinkled in annoyance, but it was more exasperated than angry.

“Perhaps you should take the flower to your locker, where it can’t disrupt the class?” she deadpanned.

Logan looked down at the rose.

Which had cheerfully started taking over an entire corner of his desk – it far more resembled a very small bush now instead of a single flower, but it mercifully wasn’t that difficult to remove when Logan pulled firmly on it.

“Um- uh, yes, I will- do that,” said Logan, his voice strangled.

Ms. Streets didn’t do anything but glare slightly when Logan also grabbed the rest of his things in a mad scramble to get out of the room, thanking _whatever_ deity was listening that the period was almost over anyway as he rushed out the door.

At his locker, Logan shoved his weekend homework and books artlessly into his backpack without any regard for their organization, diligently working around the rose now creeping its way around his forearm once more. Slamming the locker shut, he ran for the back entrance and was outside at probably an inhuman speed.

The truck was idling in the back parking lot, Roman already waiting, though he was still in the car – it was rather chilly. Logan half-ran across the lot, throwing open the passenger side door.

“ _Jesus, Mary and Joseph!_ ” exclaimed Roman, pressing his hand to his chest, “What the hell, Logan, is class even out-?”

Logan dropped his book bag into the footwell, slammed the door behind him, threw himself across the front seat and kissed Roman square on the mouth.

Roman made a surprised noise and Logan immediately deepened the kiss, cradling Roman’s face in his hands and practically crawling into his lap. Roman only took a few more seconds to respond, pressing forward with a soft groan and slipping his hand under the back of Logan’s shirt.

Logan kissed him until his head swam with the lack of air and his heartbeat thundered in his ears, until Roman pulled back with gasp and growl of appreciation.

“Afternoon, Specs,” he purred.

“You wrote me _poetry,_ ” said Logan breathlessly, kissing him again.

Wrapping an arm firmly around Logan’s waist, Roman pressed him back until he was supporting most of Logan’s weight, his other hand braced on the seat behind him.

Logan made a rather embarrassing mewling noise and tried to pull Roman on top of him as he laid down properly.

“Gonna have to do that more often if it makes you this happy,” Roman breathed, surging forward to seal their mouths together again.

Logan wasn’t entirely sure he could survive _more_ poetry, but the thought of Roman penning more verses like one in Logan’s bag right now, talking about Logan like he was something beautiful, the pleads for kissing that had left Logan feeling warm all over – it sparked something in Logan’s stomach, and he whined again, burying his hand in Roman’s hair arching his back underneath him.

“ _Shit,_ okay,” said Roman, breaking away with a gasp, “As much as it physically _pains_ me to say this, there is a picnic waiting for you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but-”

Logan made a petulant noise.

“But that,” laughed Roman, “Don’t you wanna kiss Pat and V, too? It was a multipart gift,”

“It was you three _ganging up on me_ ,” said Logan, but his voice came out much more breathless than it did irritated.

“Hell yeah we did,” teased Roman, pulling away. Logan frowned, though he managed to not quite pout, taking his seat on the other end of the bench.

Roman put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking space just as Logan heard the faint ringing of the dismissal bell and then out of the lot just as the first people began to exit the building.

And then he reached across the space between them and placed his hand on Logan’s thigh.

“ _Roman,_ ” Logan whined.

“What?” said Roman in an innocent tone of voice that Logan didn’t buy in the slightest.

“You are _picking_ on me,”

“Oh, without a doubt,” he replied instantly.

“ _Roman!_ ”

Roman just squeezed Logan’s thigh, grinning smugly as he drove, and Logan tried not to be hyperaware of his hand for the rest of the car ride and failed miserably.

Which was probably the reason he didn’t actually register what Roman had said until he pulled into the Gage’s driveway and finally let go.

“… Wait,” he said, as Roman did his usual rush around to Logan’s side of the car to offer him a hand, “A picnic? It is _February_ ,”

“Well,” said Roman, making a so-so motion, “Picnic is- maybe not the most accurate word, I suppose, but there’s food.”

Logan wrapped his coat a little tighter around himself, giving Roman a suspicious look. Roman laughed sweetly, putting his warm arm around Logan’s shoulders and pulling him close into his side as they began to walk into the woods.

Logan thought they might be going to the clearing, but that didn’t seem to be the case – it was taking much longer, and the trees began to edge into the strange season-less mish-mash that marked the beginning of faerieland. Logan cast Roman a suspicious look.

“Where are we going?”

“Ah, I can’t ruin the whole surprise, can I?” said Roman, grinning down at him, “Patton’s already going to be salty with me,”

Huffing, Logan just wormed his way closer to Roman’s side to stave off the biting cold.

“Any minute now,” Roman muttered almost inaudibly, and Logan didn’t have time to press him for what he meant before an amused Virgil and brightly smiling Patton in his puffy pale blue coat appeared from between the trees.

“Hi, sweetie!” said Patton, conveniently coming to a stop just inside arms reach, “It took a minute to get Virgil free, but we wanted to meet you halfway-”

Logan kissed him.

Patton made a surprised little hum, his mitten-clad hands coming up to cover Logan’s own on his face. There was a second hum, pleased and a bit lower, and then a beautiful groan of a note as Patton wrapped his arms around Logan’s neck and began to enthusiastically return the kiss.

It was only the cold biting at his nose and gloved fingers that allowed Logan to break the kiss. Patton looked a little dazed in the aftermath, eyes sparkling.

“I think somebody liked his presents,” he giggled unsteadily.

Virgil had come to stand beside them in the interim, gently gripping Logan’s wrist where he had put on the bracelet. Smiling softly at him, Logan tilted his head up and Virgil obligingly leaned down to give him a slow, languid kiss that caused a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold.

Virgil ended it with a punctuating little nip and a nuzzle of their noses that made Logan’s heart stutter and melt in equal measure. Virgil’s hand slid from his wrist to his hand to lace their fingers, and he began to tug Logan back toward faerieland.

“Come on,” he said softly, “Food’s waiting,”

The “picnic” turned out to be a large, incredibly fluffy blanket and a number of sitting pillows laid out on the floor of Virgil’s bedroom, a picnic basket in the center. Said basket wasn’t filled with typical picnic foods but instead several thermoses of various sizes filled with warm soup, cider, and hot chocolate, as well as two loaves of crusty homemade bread, courtesy of Patton.

Logan let out a slightly exasperated huff as they all sat.

“Do you not like it?” said Roman, a little anxiously.

“I love it,” said Logan, still ever-so-slightly annoyed, “But _my_ Valentine’s gift to the three of _you_ was going to be making you dinner. You have thoroughly and utterly upstaged me,”

Roman laughed.

“Well- like you said, we did gang up on you,”

“Yes, you did,”

“You just blush so pretty, beloved,” said Virgil coyly, “You make it so easy,”

Logan flicked him petulantly on the knee.

Patton examined the thermoses and lined them up.

“Which do you want?” he said, “Cocoa, cider no honey, or cider with honey?”

“Patton, are you trying to get me intoxicated?” said Logan, pretending to be scandalized.

Patton giggled.

“Only if you wanna be,” he said primly.

Virgil and Roman both took the honeyed cider, though it obviously wasn’t going to get Roman drunk – he just had enough of a sweet tooth to rival any fae. Logan took cocoa, and Patton took the plain cider, and they drank their beverages in between sips of warm soup and sticky-sweet kisses.

And kisses became _kisses_ until before Logan knew it Roman was pressed right up against his side, Logan’s face held in his hands, kissing him so fiercely stars were sparking behind his closed eyelids, food long forgotten.

“ _Roman,_ ” said Logan, breathless and adoring. He knew he’d been about to say something else as well, but he’d quite thoroughly forgotten it almost instantly.

When he blinked open his eyes, Virgil had moved in behind Roman and pressed his face to Roman’s shoulder – not even quite a kiss, just laying against the strip of skin exposed by Roman’s shirt. Patton’s fingers were laced with Logan’s, his thumb running delicately across Logan’s knuckles.

Roman ran his own thumbs across Logan’s cheeks, giving him a searching look.

“… Roman?” Logan repeated, a little more confused.

“Let me…” said Roman faintly, trailing off.

Logan waited, and Roman bit his lip.

“Let you what, dear?” said Logan, nudging him softly.

Roman swallowed, and instead of answering he let his hand fall from Logan’s face to his shoulder, and then a slow trail down his side until he reached Logan’s hip and hooked his fingers in the waistband.

Logan’s mind blanked completely, Roman’s warm fingers against the bare skin of his hip thoroughly wiping away any hope of coherent English Logan might have had.

Patton’s motions had stopped, and Logan could see behind Roman that Virgil had also gone entirely still.

“Are you sure?” said Virgil, his voice so low it made Logan shiver and Roman’s pupils widen.

“I’m sure,” said Roman quietly, pulling Logan forward a little, “So- so sure, I love you all so much, let me-”

Roman kissed him again, and Logan let everything fall away, until there was only Roman’s warm lips and Virgil’s cool breath and Patton’s soft hands, until there was nothing else to think about at all.

For a single moment, the fleeting thought crossed Logan’s mind that he was probably going to miss curfew, and then Roman bit his lip, and Logan forgot the thought entirely.

**Author's Note:**

> you can also find me over on [tumblr](tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com) or in the [laoft discord server!](https://discord.gg/FgF3gp2)


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